I Hate You Then I Love You
by Wide-Eyed For Pontmercy
Summary: England: 1903. Orphaned, Christine is sent to a corrupt boarding school for society's darlings. It's an eery place, and she feels like she's being watched. A man begins to hunt her, and amisdt the sinful workings of the school, Christine is caught.
1. Death

The Scattered Pieces

It was alarming – roars from the train, the heavy gray sky looming out of the windows, and the complete lack of other passengers. Christine uncomfortably shrugged off her jacket and settled into the plush seat. She politely refused refreshments offered by the train's steward, and stared out the window. After giving a final glance to stormy heavens, she reached into the pocket of her black pin-striped jacket and pulled out a wrinkled envelope. She took a deep breath and reread;

_Dearest Christine, _

_I tried. Truly, if this letter is in your hands, then I mourn the loss of your happiness and of my very mortal life. I repeat myself -I tried my hardest to live for you, but failed. As I'm dead, there's quite a lot for me to say. _

_You MUST  finish your schooling. I did not put in all those hours of trying to teach an unwilling girl scholarly ways for nothing, after all! Alas, you know I jest. While we've always lived a humble life, you may be surprised to learn that we are, in fact, quite wealthy. Your mother, bless her heart, and I had always enjoyed the simpler ways of life, and we raised you to do so as well. The money we never spent has been collecting in some stuffy old bank in London._

_Anyways, a portion of that money will pay the costs of your schooling. You are to go to Wellington School, home to the privileged English girls and boys of wealth, taste and talent. I know you must be rolling your eyes at that! Dear, you will come to the conclusion that it is the safest school in all of England, and that it will serve you well. Your guardian and I put much thought into where you would go after I passed, and we both know Wellington will be best for the further development of your musical education._

_Please, don't loathe me too much for sending you there, and remember who you are. Those rich children of English society might not understand you, Lotte girl, and you must give them time. _

_Don't EVER  cease to sing. Even if my death drives you to despair, you mustn't end your music. It's your gift, and you shouldn't waste it. Humor my memory, and dedicate a song to me every once and a while!_

_Those silly boys at school will tempt you with romance! As my nurse writes this, I am still your caring father, and I don't want you to fall for the first sop to propose. Please, Christine, heed my advice and realize that you are a highly desirable young woman with the talent to live an extraordinary life. _

_Thus ends my last fatherly commands and advice. Know that I will be watching you from heaven, watching you grow tall and lovely! Just as my mortal body will cease to be, you will live on. Fear not, Christine, for while your life may seem lonely now, you aren't alone. Perhaps God should grant me the right to see you grown with my own eyes, but I fear that he will return me to you as an Angel. I'll be with you always, maybe not as a tangible presence, but as an angel of music, should He grant me such privilege. I love you, dear._

_November 13, 1903. **Signed:** Gustav Daae _

Christine tucked the pages back into the tattered envelope. Her father had died nearly three weeks ago. Giving a laugh filled with irony, the girl brought up a shaky hand and wiped away the few tears that had spilled over her ashy cheeks. She leaned against the wooden paneling that framed her car, and resumed her surveillance of the desolate landscape. England was a lush place, but at times the gloomy skies and thick green of the land seemed to cover any light that ever dared to shine. The towering trees and rolling cliffs began to fade into a massive monster of gray and green, and soon her eyes fell shut. She slept fitfully.

"Miss? Miss, please, we've arrived." the polite voice of the steward entered Christine's hazy mind. She sleepily opened her light eyes and glanced at the worker. He tipped his uniform's smart hat in her direction, then hurried off to help with her luggage. Christine was left alone. The girl noticed the train had finally silenced, and hastily rose to a standing position. She fetched her striped jacket from the seat adjacent to her own, and smoothed down her black mourning skirt. Then Christine took up her small leather traveling case and calmly walked towards the exit. If all had gone as planned, her guardian would meet her at the train station, and he would already have a carriage prepared for her to finish her travel to Wellington's reclusive grounds. She walked unto the dusty, wooden platforms and scanned the small assortment of people. Christine set out to look for a man in a navy suit, with spectacles and a curling black mustache. She did not see him. All around her, families embraced in greeting. She hadn't seen any other passengers aboard, but from the ecstatic Englishmen around her, she realized that there had been others traveling to the town. A man with droopy eyes and light brown hair nearly ran into the arms of a chubby little boy on Christine's right. She was immediately reminded of her father. A staggering sadness threatened to devour her petite frame. The girl frantically began to look for her guardian, willing the pain to fade before it publicly consumed her.

"Miss Daae?" a soft, feminine voice pulled Christine out from the dark abbess of her own mind. She looked up to see a man who fit the description of her guardian.

"Mr. Lacor?" she hesitantly replied. He nodded and offered his thin arm. She took it, and he led her out of the noisy train station. A brown boy employed by the station quickly followed them, pulling a trolley with Christine's leather suitcases and satchels. To the boy's surprise, there was also a tattered violin case tied to one of the smaller bags. Christine continued to walk with Lacor, trailed by the boy. They reached a sturdy-looking carriage, and she was quickly situated into the seat. After the luggage was safely stowed, Lacor gave the driver instructions then settled himself into the cab with his charge.

"I trust that you are well?" Lacor asked, daintily wiping his nose with an embroidered kerchief. He settled himself into the velvet seat.

Christine uncomfortably wiped her gloved hands over her skirt and shakily answered, "Yes, I'm quite fine. My voyage has been quite amiable thus far." He gave a refined smile, then turned his watery gaze towards her. They reflected the sadness shown in her own periwinkle colored eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he murmured. "I won't even pretend to understand the depth of your sorrow." She nodded, grateful that he hadn't extended the act of pompous pity that others had given her and a moment of silence followed. "Well..." he began once the silence grew oppressing and heavy. Christine slid her eyes from floor and back to his face. "We'll shall reach Wellington in close to an hour," he cleared his throat, then finished, "Your father intended you to stay at your aunt's house during the holidays, which are quickly approaching. Your Christmas break will commence on December twentieth, and end in January...January fourth, I believe...I've recently found out that your aunt has passed away. Your father never specified where you should stay if your aunt was not available...I just don't know!" his last sentence was admitted in a hoarse whisper. "Excuse that lack of composure, if you will."

"Of course! I'm quite alright with staying at the school during the holidays, if that is acceptable?" Christine said in a rush. "I don't wish to cause any fuss and bother, and I don't feel as social as I once was. Perhaps it's all for the best?"

"Stay at the school? It could be arranged. It's not ideal, but it could work. It's good that your brave, Christine. You shan't be alone at the school, there are a few teachers who remain at the school and even a few students. It won't be improper in any way, yes, I think it could be an acceptable solution." He gave a satisfied smile and folded his hands in a tent. "There are other matters of business, but I have them safely managed. You will have a monthly salary, to provide funds for all those joys of youth. The headmistress, a Mrs. Giry, shall be responsible for providing you with your allowance. That is all that needs to be discussed, and we may now enjoy the beauty of the scenery." He gave another self-pleased smile, and turned his pale face towards the window. Christine bit in her plump lips to refrain from asking questions. She toyed with the black silk ribbons adorning her gloves, and restlessly tossed her head so her fluffy golden bangs fell away from her eyes. The remainder of the carriage ride was spent in silence.

"Miss Daae?" Lacor asked with concern. Christine sleepily opened her eyes, then flushed with embarrassment. _I really must learn to stay awake during voyages,_ she thought. "We've arrived," he said. The carriage was pulled to a gentle stop. A servant scurried out and hastily opened the carriage doors and Lacor helped Christine out. She quickly surveyed the grounds.

"Why, it's lovely!" she said, sounding quite pleased. There was a massive three-story building made of gray colored stone and covered in dark ivy. Tall, winding columns led to the towering wooden doors. Surrounding the impressive structure were tree's; tall pines and graceful weeping willows. There were many windows, each looking closed and secretive. In the distance was a lake, Christine could tell, from the slight reflection of water against the slate-colored sky. On the far left and right of the main building were clones of it, just smaller. The building to the left had white roses lining the long path to the door, and the one on the right had red roses instead. In between the numerous spaces grew more trees and flowers, looking beautiful and mysterious in a way that looked all too planned. Even so, the land and buildings held an aura of secrecy and enchantment to Christine.

"The smaller building to the left is the young ladies' dormitory." Lacor said. Christine tore her eyes from a Grecian statue that appeared to be near the lake. She nodded to Lacor then looked to her luggage. A servant in forest green livery was pulling her suitcases away from the carriage. "Look, there is Mrs. Giry!" A tall, imposing woman was regally strolling towards them. She had narrow features and a slim waist, and her thick, graying hair was collected into a severe bun.

"Ah, Mr. Lacor, Miss Daae. It's a pleasure to have you here." her voice was surprisingly low, and had the fainest hint of a French accent. She nodded to the two of them, then turned to the servant. "John, you may take the luggage into Room 26." John swept the luggage up, then scampered off. Mrs. Giry turned back to them. "Let's go to my office to chat." She promptly began to walk. Christine had to hurry to keep up with her. While they walked, Giry pointed things out. "The building to the right is the gentlemens' dormitory, and young ladies are never permitted to go there, of course. The center building is where everything else is located; the ballroom, the classrooms, and such. Along the grounds are walking paths and gardens, for our students enjoyment. Ladies are to never go out on their own. There is a lake here, as well as a stable. Every month the students go to town for shopping, the opera and, obviously, to socialize. In fact, most Wellington students are quite privileged and are used to luxury and privilege. While I strive to maintain order and manners in my Ladies' dorm, I understand the follies of your class, Miss Daae."

They arrived at the door of the ladies' dorm. Once they entered, Christine's blue eyes widened. The marble floors practically gleamed, and there were shining candelabras to light the dim interior. Mrs. Giry walked forward, and the vast structure echoed from the sound of her heeled shoes. "This way," she instructed. They walked down a shadowy hall, then entered her room. It was as luxurious as the rest of the school seemed to be, with high ceilings and elegant furniture. Giry gestured for them to sit on one of the plush chairs. Lacor seemed pleased with the interior, but wasn't impressed by any means. Christine, on the other hand, couldn't make her eyes go back to normal size. She had grown up in a privileged, but quaint home. She wasn't used to such splendor. "Tea?" the headmistress asked. Lacor accepted some in a china cup, but Christine politely refused. "As I was saying earlier, Wellington is quite used to the privileged. But we're home to the gifted, and the teachers here bring out the special skills of the upper classes in an atmosphere that you, and others of your class, feel comfortable and safe. I just know you'll succeed here, Miss Daae."

"Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. You will wear a uniform each day, until dinner. I'll have a maid send yours up to you in the morning." Christine frowned, but Giry looked to Lacor then, and he proceeded to talk about Christine's plan to stay there for holiday breaks. Christine ceased paying attention. Her curious eyes glimpsed around Mrs. Giry's room. There were countless expensive knick-knacks, like large paintings, figurines of graceful dancers and such, Persian rugs, and lifelike statues of peoples unknown to the girl.

"Well, now that our business has concluded, I fear London calls." Lacor said, feigning regret. Christine turned her attention back to her guardian, and joined the headmistress in bidding him farewell. They paused to watch his carriage disappear into the dark tree's that surrounded Wellington.

"Well now, Miss Daae, I do believe it is time for you to see the rest of the ladies' dorm, yes?" Christine nodded. They walked back to the dorm. Christine admired the white roses on the way there.

"Ah, here is your room," Giry said. They had walked down the long narrow halls, past the other girl's room. Christine had learned that every girl had her own room and bath. It _really_ was a school for the privileged. There was a common room in a spire at the top of the stairs, like a princess hideaway. Christine's room was at the end of the top floor, quite a ways away from the rest of the rooms. "Each room is different from the other, you know. It's just another unique part of Wellington." Giry pulled out a delicate key, and unlocked the tall door. Christine's luggage was already in a neat pile on the polished dark wood floor. The room was simply square-shaped. Across from the door was a large window with a pillowed seat against the glass. Between the door and window was a queen-sized bed with dark wood woven intricately at the frames. Above the bed hung a painting of a stormy sea. It complemented the blue walls. Across from the bed was a dainty dressing table and stool. A clear crystal vase stood on the counter, containing a single white rose. But the feature of the room that captured Christine's attention was the floor-to-ceiling mirror. It was framed in shimmering gold, and decorated with winding roses and mischievous cherubs. "Oh, oh." Christine said, gracefully walking over to the mirror and touching one of the grinning angels.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Mrs. Giry proudly. "Courtesy of an alumni from the school. He does art now, besides running an estate." The girl nodded her agreement.

"It's very lovely." Christine breathed. She walked away from the mirror, and smiled against the shadowy backdrop of her dark room. The view from the large window was interesting; she could see the branches of numerous trees and below that, the bright tips of flowers against the lush green ground. "This room is truly wonderful." she said, feeling humbled by Room 26.

"Come see the bath," Giry said, and opened a dark door Christine hadn't seen. They entered. "Oh!" she exclaimed. There was a marble bath, and another mirror, though it wasn't as splendid as the one in her room. A matching marble counter and velvet stool finished the small room. "I hope you'll forgive the small size. This is...our simplest room, but it is also the only available room at the time." Christine tried to contain her shock. The room was fit to belong to a queen, in her mind. "It's perfect," she replied.

"Good, good. Dinner is served at seven, it's semi-formal, of course. Like I said earlier, dinner is when you are permitted to change from your uniform .I'll send a student to you at six-thirty, she'll assist you. If you find you need a ladies' maid, I'll have one sent. It is five right now, so I should hope you have just enough time to refresh yourself." Mrs, Giry gave a satisfied smile, then walked to the door. "I hope you enjoy your time here, Miss Daae." Her smile faded, and changed to something vaguely sinister. Christine's eyes widened in alarm. "I assure you, you shan't ever forget it." Then the headmistress left, seeming to float away.

Christine glanced around her new living space again. It truly was fabulous, and she was actually pleased that her room was secluded from the others. Then, with a sigh, she unpacked most of her belongings. Afterward she glanced at her dainty silver pocket watch, and saw that it was already six. With a roll of her almond-shaped eyes, she wondered what she would wear. "I can't believe I actually have to think about what I'll wear now." Christine finally decided on a navy gown that had silver embroidery on the bodice and sleeves that puffed at the shoulder, but tampered down into nothing at her wrists. Dark blue always complimented her periwinkle-colored eyes. She waltzed over to her vanity and sat down, unbinding her thick hair in the process. "And what to do with my hair?" the girl pondered. Glancing at her watch, which had been tossed onto the counter, she saw that her time was running out. Frustratedly, she pinned her blond curls into a chignon, and put pearl drops through her ears. Then she gave a wicked smile, and applied a small amount of mascara to her pale lashes and bit of color to her plump lips. _I'm not going to spend this much time on my appearance every night, _she vowed to herself. She just desperately wanted to make a good impression on her fellow students.

Christine hadn't ever had many friends her age. When her parents had been alive, they had been enough company for her, but there had been a cook who had been like a second mother to Christine. There had been children from the near-by village, but she had only played the occasional game with them. The various pets of the Daae family had scampered along their country home, much like Christine herself had. They had occasionally taken summer trips to her father's homeland of Sweden, and she would wildly run among the beach their cottage was by. That was where Christine had met her first real friends - Raoul de Chagny, a boy on the threshold of a great French title, and Margret, a vacationing Brit girl like Christine. They had frolicked in the waves, giggled over games of make-believe, and listened rapturously to the dark Swedish folk stories Christine's father had told.

Christine shook her head. She wasn't sure why a childhood memory had suddenly filled her thoughts, and it saddened her. Her father had been such a big influence in her life...and now he was gone.

"Hello?" a high British voice asked. It was followed by a confident knock upon the door. Christine swallowed, and patted her skirt. Her father would want her to move on, she knew. If only it was that easy.

"Come in," Christine answered. The door opened to reveal a teenage girl. She was small and blond like Christine, but her figure was a thing men must have dreamed about, it was so voluptuously curvy. She wore a deep red gown with a lacy neckline and a string of pearls. Her hair was in a chignon similar to Christine's. Her doe-like brown eyes were friendly and she smiled.

"My name is Margret. I'm down in Room 13. I study dance, primarily. I've been told your new, and in need of a friend?" her last sentence was made to sound like a joke, so Christine smiled shyly in return. Something about her seemed familiar, almost like the girl Christine had known as a child. But Margret was a very common name, she reminded herself.

"Hello. I'm Christine...I think I'll be studying voice. I like to sing." she could have slapped herself for stating the obvious. Margret didn't seem to mind, though. She gestured to the door, and they left the room.

"So what delicious scandal brought you to Wellington?" the curvy girl asked. Christine's face paled in surprise. "What?" she gasped. Margret laughed. "Why, you weren't informed?" Christine shook her head. "Wellington is for the gifted, privileged, and all of that rubbish. I'm sure you well know _that. _But it's also for those society darlings who need to be out of the spotlight for a bit!" She turned to Christine and winked. "So I imagine you were sent here for innocent reasons, then?" The smaller girl nodded. "You must be the first." They left the ladies dorm and walked along the path that lead to the main building.

They continued to chat about trivial things. Eventually, Margret asked, "Christine, dear, have you ever spent any summers on the Swedish coast? You greatly remind me of someone."

The girl nodded, and responded, "Yes, I went practically every summer...Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I think we knew each other."

Margret's eyes widened, and she said, "Christine Daae?" The other girl nodded, and they both instantly laughed and hugged. "I never though to see you again!" Christine said with wonder a few moments later. They were strolling the halls inside the main building. She still was amazed by the meticulous decor and striking architecture. They continued to talk and catch up on the other's lives until dinner.

"You'll sit with my friends and I." Margret said decisively. Christine nodded gratefully. Meg strolled into the large dining room. Christine gasped with delight. There was a magnificent chandelier above her head, and there were two huge, ornate tables. "They're pretty, aren't they," Margret whispered knowingly. Then Christine realized she was talking about the inhabitants of the grand dining room. There were boys! Dressed in pressed clothes, with slicked back hair and charming faces. And the girls! They were just as stunning as Margret, with fashionable dresses and refined faces and snowy skin. Christine had never seen so many people her age before.

Margret confidently led the timid girl to a prime section of the table, it was closest to the boy's table. "Girls, this is Christine Daae. She was a dear friend of mine during my Swedish summers! Perhaps I've told you about her before?" Three of the most lovely girls turned to face Christine. One nodded at Margret's words. Christine sank down into the velvet chair next to her friend. "That's Catherine," Margret said, and gestured to the girl to her left. Catherine had thick black curls and sultry eyes to match her dusky green dress. She offered a bored smile, then resumed her eye-contact with a boy at the other table. "and this is Eliza," Margret continued. The girl with luxurious brown tresses and an expensive-looking necklace gave a tight grin to Christine. "- and last, but not least, is April." The friendliest, and perhaps prettiest, gave Christine a welcoming smile and extended her hands to take Christine's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said softly. Her auburn hair was gathered into an intricate twist, and her aqua-colored eyes were genuinely interested. Christine smiled back at her and squeezed her hands through her dinner gloves. "How does Wellington suit you thus far?" April asked.

"Wonderfully. The grounds are so pretty!" Christine said enthusiastically. Catherine rolled her dark eyes at Christine's response. April ignored her, and continued to politely converse with Christine about the school and their hobbies.

"Trust me, the splendor wears off, then you realize you're _left_here. Like a bird in a gilded cage. You'll wish you have never laid eyes on Wellington School!" Eliza suddenly hissed, interrupting Christine and April's conversation. Christine turned to question Eliza, but then the headmistress sat down at the head of the ladies' table. A man did the same to the gentlemens' table, and dinner commenced. Eliza's comment was soon forgotten as Christine happily dined on the delicious multi-course meal.

Sometime during the desert course, Mrs. Giry stood. "Young ladies and gentlemen, I've an announcement. As some of you must have seen, we have a new student." Christine realized the announcement was about her, and immediately blushed crimson. "Miss Christine Daae shall be joining us! Please, let's have a warm Wellington welcome." She gestured for Christine to stand. The students all politely clapped, but most rolled their eyes at the spectacle. Then Christine stood. She immediately captivated the men next to her table. Her delicate beauty and obvious innocence were quickly noted in the dashing and troublesome young men's minds. The girls who hadn't noticed her looked up. Seeing Christine's golden hair and mysterious eyes only annoyed them. She became just another part of the school that they hated.

"Since she has started so late in the year, I trust that each and everyone of you will be of assistance to her," Mrs. Giry firmly continued, and shot glares to some of the students. Christine sat down, shortly followed by Giry flouncing back into her seat at the head of the table. Margret patted her arm. "Don't let them scare you," she said playfully, and Christine pretended to laugh. The students, with their fancy costumes, stunning looks and cryptic remarks, had already managed to frighten her.


	2. The Daae Girl

It was ten by the time Christine returned to her room. That was the usual curfew for the students, but she felt exhausted. Christine was innocent , and the facades the other girls presented managed to both confuse and alarm her. The scattered conversations at dinner and the bored chatter that followed in the ladies' grand parlor only served to show that she was a completely different breed from the rest of them. With the help of Margaret, her old friend, and April, her new one, she managed to create her own suitable mask. Instead of reveling her weaknesses to the other girls, her new friends instructed her to say that she had to leave her old home due to a romantic scandal. There was nothing further from the truth, but the other girls had bought the story and were merciful to Christine. She was mainly ignored for the rest of the night, and was thankful for it. The toll from traveling, the perpetual grief from her father's death and the eery school buildings made her want to sleep for days. Christine finished the last of her unpacking and laid out a few knick-knacks on her new counters. Sighing, she changed into a girlish nightgown and cleaned off her make-up.

"Papa, what do you think? This school...it's so_ different_. I'm not sure if I'll ever fit in here. Being here makes me feel like a child compared to the other girls. It's as if their already grown women." Ever since her father had died, Christine would approach his memory with her questions. She was sure that he was listening from Heaven. She quickly brushed her curls out from the chignon. "Oh well...I suppose I should sleep. Lord knows I'm exhausted," she murmured. The girl carefully blew out her candles and nearly fell into her plush bed. Immediately she fell into a deep sleep.

"Hullo? Miss? Hullo?" a husky voice murmured. A brisk knock to Christine's heavy door soon followed. Christine's blue eyes cracked open. Surely there wasn't anyone at the door so early? To her dismay, the knocking continued.

Christine quickly rasped,"Just a moment, please?" and hastily rose from bed. She threw on her dressing gown and fasted the chord quickly. Not even bothering to check her reflection, she opened the door. "Yes?"

A bulky maid stood in the dim hallway. In her callused hands were a stack of Christine's new uniforms. The maid managed to give a quick curtsy under the mountain of the clothes. "Your uniforms, Miss Daae," she said politely. Christine stepped aside and the maid swept into the room to lay the clothes upon the bed.

"This is the everyday dress," she explained and pointed to a narrow-necked blouse lined with ivory buttons and sleeves that puffed at the shoulder. It came with a tiered black skirt that accommodated the popular S-bend corset. "This is the exercise costume," she continued. The simple frock was cream colored with white pin-stripes. "And here is your riding habit, if you choose to partake in equine sports." The riding habit followed the black, white and cream color scheme and displayed the proper outfitting for young girl of class. "There's two cloaks, one for winter and one for summer." The maid gestured to each, the white summer cloak looked silky while the navy colored winter cloak had a velvety hood. "Remember, you're permitted to change for supper. At balls you are allowed to create your wardrobe. For recitals your costumes are selected for you. That is all." The maid curtsied again then left.

Christine shouted out a quick, "Thank you!" to the retreating figure then began to hang up her new clothes. She disliked the outfits, but figured that they were quite stylish. The shirt looked dreadfully uncomfortable. With a sigh, Christine changed into the everyday dress. The contrast between the stark white of the blouse and the black of the skirt provided a nice backdrop for her golden hair and rosy skin. She quickly pinned up her hair and checked her pocket watch. "Oh, eight already? The other girls should be heading to breakfast!" Christine shyly opened her door to see a sharp line of girls leaving the dorms.

"Blast!" she whispered, and hurried out of her room. Panting, she managed to make it to the back of the line. The girl in front of her happened to be Eliza. The pristine debutante sniffed with annoyance at Christine's disarrayed arrival, and coyly adjusted her expensive gold earrings. The simply accessory added class to her schoolgirl's uniform. Christine made herself a mental note to wear jewelry more frequently. But for the current moment, Christine was lost the in sea of white and black clothing that covered the line of girls.

Breakfast went by remarkably fast for Christine. She had toast and a bit of coffee, due to her nervousness. She would be starting her new classes in just a matter of minutes! Christine had delicious food and new friends, but she still couldn't focus on anything. While Margret and April talked over their crumbling muffins, the small girl pushed her food around her plate. After a few moments, she felt the weight of someone watching her. Startled, she quickly glimpsed up. Across the room, an attractive boy impishly winked at her. With a heated blush already appearing over her features, Christine hurriedly looked away and tried to concentrate on her new friends' discussion.

When breakfast concluded, a maid fetched Christine and brought her to Mrs. Giry's office. The pristine headmistress was already behind her desk. "Good morning..." Christine shyly murmured.

Mrs. Giry only nodded. "Alright, Miss Daae, I suppose you need a schedule. All girls are required to take dance, language, art, maths, composition and music." Christine smiled. Those classes sounded fun to her. "After the required classes, girls are allowed to choose their main subject of study from the classes I just listed. Would you like me to repeat them?" Mrs Giry offered a tight smile and began to straighten an already neat stack of papers atop her huge desk. Her behavior hinted that Christine was wasting her precious time.

"I'd like to focus upon music." Christine immediately replied, vividly recalling the request in her father's letter. Giry's head quickly snapped up.

"Music, Miss Daae?" she asked, a smug smile appearing over her stern features. Christine's eyes narrowed with confusion, but she slowly nodded. Giry quietly chuckled, then began to pen out Christine's course schedule. She quickly handed it to the orphan. "I advise you to hurry, Miss Daae. You don't wish to be late for your first proper day at Wellington, do you?" The headmistress obviously dismissed her attention away from Christine. With her back to the girl, she began to arrange a flower bouquet that was tucked into a large decorative vase.

Christine stiffly thanked Giry for her assistance, then left the headmistress' office. Even though it was spacious and tastefully decorated, Christine decided that the room felt smothering. Christine had just shut the office's large door when she heard Giry say, "I know you're there, and I know what you wish to talk about."

Christine was fully aware that eavesdropping was a foul thing to do, but her curiosity was immediately spiked. Who was Giry talking to? Nobody could have entered the room without Christine seeing, as she herself was the one who had shut the door mere moments before. She quickly glanced down the large halls of the girls' dormitory, they were empty. Then she hitched up her skirts and silently ran back to the office door.

"What do you think of her?" Giry continued in a conversational voice. She sounded more polite then she had when giving Christine her schedule.

"She looks nothing like her father," came the thoughtful reply. Christine jumped with shock, her heart racing. There was a man inside the headmistress' office! He had the most appealing voice Christine had ever heard. His voice brought forth thoughts of aspen trees, ocean waves, champagne and dark chocolate. "I can't say that's an unfortunate thing however." Christine immediately turned pink as she realized he was talking about _her_. Something about his flawless voice made his words have more impact then if a normal man had said them.

"And she wishes to study music," Giry declared with an amused laugh. Even laughing, she managed to sound condescending.

"Of course she does," the man answered.

"You never told me why you wanted her," the headmistress said after a short pause. She sounded petulant. Christine pressed against the closed door, her face flush against the smooth wood. That man wanted her? Why? More importantly, he had known her father!

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that. To be frank, I don't ever plan on telling you, Madame. I believe you are aware of this." The man sounded vaguely annoyed, as if he had told her such countless times.

Mrs. Giry gave an offended humph. There was a short, awkward silence. "I see you haven't changed much sense I last talked to you, Erik." Her voice was bitter, yet that wasn't the only emotion Christine heard...Did Giry sound wistful too?

"Oh, naturally. Men like me don't change," the man Christine presumed to be Erik replied. His voice continued to astonish her. She wondered what he looked like – did his appearance match his voice?

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Giry? I've got some other business to attend to. I don't care how you get her there, but make sure the Daae girl is ready for me at the chapel tonight." A whoosh of air followed his words, then the room was filled with silence. Christine guiltily jumped away from the door, but Erik never left Giry's office.

Christine supposed that Erik had both entered and exited the office through some sort of secret passageway. How intriguing! Christine's mind was reeling, but she knew she had to find her new classes to avoid getting in trouble on her first true day of school. She couldn't resist pressing her face to the huge door for a final listen.

She heard Mrs. Giry give a long, tired sigh. Christine was about to pull her face away from the door and run to class when she heard the sound of anguished sobbing from the office.


End file.
